


plates

by howelllesters



Series: askfics [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cute, Disasters, First Meetings, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), One Shot, Waiter Dan Howell, bartender phil lester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howelllesters/pseuds/howelllesters
Summary: “I’m so sorry,” Dan says, suddenly aghast. “You came out here for a break and I’ve wasted your time telling you about how my toes are squelching in a red wine jus.”
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: askfics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769077
Kudos: 5





	plates

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'plates', from anonymous.

He’s not going to cry, he’s not going to cry, he’s not going to cry-

Christ, but he might kill someone.

He might kill someone while crying, that’s what he feels like right now, but he’s not going to, he’s going to stand there and force an apologetic smile on to his face, because he thinks murder might be a decent reason for him to get fired on his first day.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Dan says graciously, carefully dabbing at the one speck of sauce on the man’s collar.

Not like he’s absolutely covered in food. Not like his shirt isn’t soaked and plastered to his chest, gravy running into his socks and peas gathered on the toes of his shoes. Not like he wants to run away and never, ever come back.

No, Dan is absolutely fine, and clearly one hundred per cent in the wrong, so he’s apologising over and over again to the man who walked straight into him, the man who is inconceivably affronted, backed up by his equally horrified wife who clearly didn’t see him blindly wander into the path of the waiter bearing both of their main courses.

“I’ll have the kitchen prepare you a fresh meal as a priority,” Dan assures him through gritted teeth, fully aware that almost the entire restaurant is staring at the scene, the haunting piano music playing in the background serving only to put Dan more on edge.

He’s going to have to quit.

If he’s not already fired, that is.

Dan has an impressive history of utterly failing at jobs, but this is a new low, screwing up on his very first night. Usually it’s not so bad that he feels like he needs to quit himself, usually he just waits for the company to get rid of him, but this, this is bad. This is very bad.

“Can I help at all?”

The kind voice of Alice, Dan’s supervisor, sounds from behind him, and Dan turns to her, infinitely grateful for her presence. The husband and wife mistake her sympathetic tone as being for them, nodding and motioning to the drinks that spilled when everything Dan was carrying crashed over the table, the floor, and him. Dan knows better though, knows that she actually wants to know if he’s alright, because she’s the kindest soul that works here and had taken him under her wing within his first five minutes. Metaphorically of course - even if she had wings, at a good foot smaller than him, that would’ve been a feat.

“If you could fetch some more drinks while I finish helping this gentleman,” Dan says, trying really hard to keep his voice even. “And then I’ll inform the kitchen that we need two more steaks, and perhaps you could replace the tablecloth?”

“That sounds like a plan,” she smiles at him, and Dan’s heart lifts for the first time all night, relieved that he’s making a good suggestion.

An hour later and the couple finally leaves the restaurant, simply rounding up to the nearest pound by way of a tip, something which very nearly sends Dan over the edge.

After the new food had been ordered, Dan had had no choice but to hunt in the backroom for a new shirt at the very least, his own probably ruined beyond repair. Of course the only shirt he’d been able to find that didn’t smell like it’d been sat in his grandma’s attic for ten years was enormous, and even rolled up and tucked in, it was embarrassingly puffy.

“How are you holding up?” Alice asks sweetly, catching him at a quiet moment as he rings something up through the till and she stops to pick up some pepper. “Earlier was pretty rough.”

“I don’t know if I’m quite cut out for this,” Dan admits, hands shaking as he punches the numbers in. No need to tell her yet that he’s quitting after his shift finishes in two hours.

“Hey, don’t say that. Why don’t you take a ten minute break, go get some air out back?”

“Are you sure?” Dan asks hesitantly, torn between wanting an escape and not wanting to appear lazy.

“Yeah, yeah just cut through the kitchen and you’ll be in the alley outside. It’s not particularly pretty, but you look like you could do with a breather.”

“Thank you,” Dan almost whispers, wasting no time in shoving his black apron beneath the counter and barrelling his way through the kitchen.

He bursts through the doors seconds later, the cold night air biting into him instantly, and then he’s colliding with someone for the second time that night, only this time they’re incredibly solid and Dan’s on the floor before he even realises.

“Holy sh- are you okay?” someone asks him, and Dan blinks, trying to assess the sudden throbbing pain at the small of his back.

“Yeah,” Dan mutters, wincing, but accepting the pale hand that’s extended to him. “Ouch.”

“I’m so sorry,” and Dan turns to look at the person, the rock, he crashed into, taken aback when he finds himself letting go of the hand of a slim guy wearing skinny jeans and a black tshirt, distinctly sweaty-looking hair pushed back off his forehead as though he’d been running his hand through it.

“No, no it was my fault,” Dan tells him, offering him a small smile even though he wants to go home and curl up in bed now more than ever. “I was in a rush.”

“In a rush?” the other boy chuckles, motioning to the pretty grimy-looking back alley they’re stood in. It runs down the back of the bank of shops Dan’s restaurant is a part of, in between a bank, an antiques shop, two mini-supermarkets and a bar. The narrow space is mostly industrial bins, cigarette butts and puddles that never seem to dry up, and as Dan assesses his surroundings properly, he understands the scepticism in the man’s voice. “To get to this natural beauty?”

“I just wanted some fresh air,” Dan shrugs, and he doesn’t know how pathetic he looks but his acquaintance’s face softens a little.

“Bad night?”

“The worst,” Dan sighs. “My first and last, I think.”

“Does it have anything to do with the carrot on your shoe?”

Dan looks down at his shoe, noticing a stray vegetable attached that he hadn’t managed to clean off earlier. The other boy sounds like he’s trying not to chuckle, but Dan can’t help it. He cracks up with laughter. Within seconds, tears are streaming down his face, and he’s in hysterics at what a terrible, terrible first day he’s had.

“Yeah,” he manages to get out, and before he knows it, he’s spilling the entire sorry tale to this poor bloke who just happened to be lurking here as Dan stumbled outside.

By the end of it though, he’s laughing too, and it’s with a slightly disappointed look that he pulls his phone out and checks the time.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” he informs Dan, and when Dan raises an eyebrow, he points to a door one along from where Dan exited earlier. “I work at the club, and my fifteen minutes are up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dan says, suddenly aghast. “You came out here for a break and I’ve wasted your time telling you about how my toes are squelching in a red wine jus.”

“I promise you that this is the best break I’ve had all week,” he grins. “And I really am sorry about your night, it sounds bad. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you should quit. It’d be nice to find you here again another night, maybe both of us on two feet?”

“That does sound better,” Dan laughs, and he’s glad it’s dark so no one can see the blush on his cheeks. “I might stick it out for another week then?”

“I might see you tomorrow then. I’m Phil, by the way.”

“Dan.”

They smile at each other, and then Phil ambles off to his own place, giving Dan an awkward wave before he slips inside. Realising his own ten minutes are up anyway, Dan heads back into the restaurant, confident at least that he can get through the remaining hours of his shift at least.

As it happens, Dan doesn’t last the week. He lasts two more days, and then when he steps outside with fish in his hair, much to Phil’s amusement, he informs his new friend that he’s quitting from tomorrow onwards, but he’d very much like his number before he goes. To the surprise of neither of them, sipping coffee together on a weekend is far nicer than mooching about in dark alleyways, even if Phil can see Dan’s pink cheeks now.


End file.
